


the Golden Girl

by soybeez



Category: Red Rising Trilogy - Pierce Brown
Genre: F/M, kinda spoilers for Golden Son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:39:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8085445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soybeez/pseuds/soybeez
Summary: Mustang deals with her feelings for Cassius as well as her guilt over deceiving him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place between Red Riding and Golden Son. Darrow has left for Academy and Mustang has started a relationship with Cassius in order to infiltrate the Sovereign's inner circle.

“Lo, Virginia, how was your morning?” He smells of sweat and blood when he bends down to kiss me. His hair is damp and sticking to his head, a limp curl brushing against my nose. His razor is still coiled at his hip. He refuses to wear it around his arm in the new fashion. Because it isn’t safe, he says; if it got activated it could cut off an arm. I know it’s because he doesn’t want anything about him to be the same as Darrow.   
“It was tolerable. Moira went on one of her rants about the Son’s of Ares. She’s starting to pontificate.”   
“Isn’t that the point of Politicos?”   
“No, darling, the point is to play that game, to change the paradigm.”  
“Always about the gorydamn paradigm.”   
“It’s what makes us Golds.”   
“Mmm,” he murmurs, nuzzling into my neck. “That, and other things.” I smile, threading my fingers into his hair and bringing his lips to mine.   
I wish he made my skin crawl, made me nauseated to think about, but he doesn’t. A fire builds in my belly when I feel his lips on my neck and his teeth on my jaw.   
“You need to bathe,” I tell him, pushing his head away. My lips are pink and swollen, my hair mussed from his fingers running through it. “You stink.”   
“True.” He presses his lips behind my ear. “But there’s no need to do it alone.”   
“I’m busy.” I motion to the pile of papers spread before me, trying to ignore the heat his kisses leave behind. “I have to have these to Octavia by noon tomorrow.”   
He snorts through his nose. “That’s plenty of time. Besides, you’re looking a bit dirty to me.” He tips the chair back, dumping me into his arms. Despite my protests I don’t struggle; I quite like it, actually. The desire, the honesty of it, is refreshing. You always know where you stand with Cassius, what he wants from you. “Or maybe it’s just that I’m the dirty one?” He grins lewdly down at me and I bite down on his shoulder. Not hard enough to hurt, especially not through the ScarabSkin, but hard enough to elicit a groan of frustrated desire. Sweet, simple Cassius.   
Cassius is an easy man. Easy moods and desires, full of blood and lust and easy smiles. Dueling made him lusty and lust made him hungry for blood; a Gold through and through. I’ve grown used to him showing up in my rooms on Luna peeling off his Morning Knight armor and dripping with someone else’s blood. He lets me down on the floor of the bathing room, my boots clicking on the marble floor.   
“Bath time,” Cassius chirps. “Clothes off.”   
I raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. “You first. I do not cave to the demands of kidnappers.”   
“Yes, domina.” With a cocky grin he grabs the collar of his ScarabSkin, unzipping it down to the waist. Bending over he unlaces his boots, and then mine for good measure. When he stands back up he starts to peel off the tight fabric like a second skin. Despite his flaws Cassius au Bellona is a perfect specimen of Gold. His muscles are hard as rocks, his chest a statue chiseled from marble. Although it doesn’t dissipate the guilt completely the view certainly helps. Shimmering gold hair peppers his chest and runs down past his bellybutton. Thick hipbones push out through golden brown skin and form a V that runs down under the tight black fabric.   
“Your turn,” he purrs. He should have been a panther, not an eagle. I kick off my own boots and pull the dress over my head, letting it puddle onto the floor. Cassius kicks them into a corner where a Pink or Brown will fetch it after we are gone.   
Sharp hips press into mine as he leans around me to unhook my bra, his chest only far enough away from mine to let the garment fall to our feet. I like him undressing me almost as much as he does. I can feel it in the way his fingers trace along my back, the way his breath catches in his throat. He presses his lips against my neck, my collarbone. My skin shivers. Playing Cassius is easier than I would like it to be. I’m afraid that it is less because he is simple and more that I am good at it. Long fingers tug at my waistband of my underwear but I shake my head. “I said you first.” Grinning his hands move from my hips to his, tugging the ScarabSkin the rest of the way down. You don’t wear underwear under tactical gear, it’s too tight; a fact that I have always appreciated.   
This I do myself, more to tease him than anything. His eyes are hungry as he watches me shimmy out of the tight fabric, his tongue flicking over his lower lip as he watches it slip down my thighs. No, shimmying is not necessary, but I enjoy the theatrics. He groans, his fingers twitching anxiously as his side. He doesn’t reach out, doesn’t touch me until I give him permission. I step backwards into the large bath, walking until I’m in the water up to my bellybutton, then I motion him in with a crooked finger. His hands go to my waist, pulling my hips into his. He’s hard, every muscle tense. My hands trace along his shoulders, down his arms. Everything is Gold.   
“Virginia au Agustus.” His lips are in my hair, against my ear, tracing over my neck. “Virginia au Agustus, Politico of Luna, favored daughter of the Sovereign.” His skin is warm. A bruise is already forming on his stomach from the duel, a thin strip of resFlesh running across his hairline that I’m just now noticing.   
“So says the Morning Knight.” He’s quite proud of that still. His shoulders push back just a little bit more, his hands gripping my hips just a little bit more firmly. Now my back is to the wall of the bath, the backs of my knees pressed against one of the low benches sunk in the water. I hate that I want this. I hate that my fingers pull at his hair and that my mouth knows the taste of his. One hand cups a breast, thumb running over a hardening nipple. My eyes narrow, by body trying to succumb while my brain tries to fight it. The more I enjoy this the worse I feel about it.   
The hand moves from my hips to between my legs, his thumb running a smooth circle around my inner thigh. My shoulders relax against the wall, my knees bending back against the marble. He grins that wolfish grin, the one that makes men and women melt. It’s easy to see why Cassius is so loved, so beloved. He is the epitome of Gold, Adonis reborn. When he presses his mouth against mine he pushes a finger inside of me. Despite myself I groan. Just once, just for a second, but it’s enough. Give Cassius an inch and he takes a mile.   
I feel his smile on my mouth, taste his lust on my tongue. His kiss deepens and so does the finger, moving steadily in and out. The thumb moves from my thigh to the clitoris, the smooth circles making me bite hard on my lower lip. Except it’s not my lip it’s Cassius’s. He laughs at that, pushing his hips against mine, adding another finger to the rhythmic pulse inside of me. Now I do moan. “How sweet, Virginia,” he coos, nibbling on my ear. “Do you like that, darling?” I nod, eyes closed, shoulders braced on the wall for support. Gorydamn I shouldn’t let him do this. “Say it,” he insists, fingers quickening. His mouth moves down my chin, my neck, my shoulders. His tongue traces down between my breasts, his mouth closing down on one hard nipple. I bite into his shoulder in response, harder this time. He lets out a surprised yelp, pulling me into him. One hand grips hard into his shoulder, the other squeezing one firm buttock. The man has the ass of a god. His lips tug at my breast, his teeth running lightly over it. All I see is the top of his golden head. Really, that head could belong to anyone, the body could belong to anyone. If I close my eyes I can pretend that it isn’t Cassius au Bellona with his fingers inside of me but another Gold, another boy from House Mars. Mouth moves from my breast to my side, kisses burning into my skin. He bites down on the skin at my ribcage and I moan, my nails scratching hard down his back.   
“Gorydamn, Virginia, this isn’t a duel.”   
“Isn’t it?” I ask, panting slightly. “A battle of will?”   
“It isn’t a proper duel without razors, my goodman.” He’s breathing hard now, ragged. The warm water is making everything hot and slick and steamy.   
“Well you have one right here at the ready, Cassius. I can feel it against my leg”   
He laughs. It breaks at the end into a rough growl as he presses closer into me, speed quickening. His fingers slide all the way in, then all the way out. Lingering out longer and longer each time so that I’m practically panting for him to start again. “Virginia, was that a bawdy joke? From you?” the fingers leave. They stay gone, tracing a pattern on my thigh as the thumb continues rubbing its figure eight. He wants me to beg.   
“Only a joke if I was incorrect. Let me check, as Aureate we always need to be precise.” I reach down, taking him in my hand. He bucks forward, surprised. A hand slips off my hip in the water and he loses his balance just enough to graze his forehead against the wall, the new resFlesh splitting and blood starting to leak from the wound. I expect him to stop, my fingers loosening, but with a growl he pushes into me. “You’re head,” I tell him, squirming slightly to get a better look at it.   
That does nothing to quiet him, instead the movement of our bodies together excites him even more. “It’s nothing,” he rasps, “just a scratch. It’s just a scratch, Virginia, ignore it.” And so I do. I ignore it because his fingers are back inside of me and his tongue in running across my teeth and his hips are starting to move just enough to create friction in my hand. He feels like ecstasy, hot blood pumping though both or our veins. The thumb nail of his free hand ran along my spine. Without thinking I pushed forward, my body pressing into his, a hand tangling itself in his curls. Silk I and sparkle and ironGold. Cassius is everything anyone should want, everything that I should want. In this moment I do. I want him with every fiber of my being, every tendon and muscle and brain cell wants to be wrapped around Cassius au Bellona. I want to feel close to someone.   
His hand moves back to my breast and my mind is whipped back into focus. Dueling with razors isn’t the only thing that he’s good at. This isn’t a new battle for us. It’s a conflict that we fight over and over again. We break at the same time, neither one of us wanting to go first, to be the first to break the stalemate we have created, but neither one of us willing to wait. He pulls his hand away as I guide him inside of me. One hand is tangling in his curls, the other still on his ass, pulling him closer.   
He bucks his hips and I feel as I do on a horse. Free. My teeth bite down on his lip again and he growls, thrusting harder. I can’t breathe the pressure building up so fast that it feels like an explosion. He twines my braid around his hand, nails digging hard into my hip. His tongue traced over my collarbone, his teeth running a light groove, and I moaned into his ear. He smiled, looking up at me through long golden lashes, his head between my breasts as he ran a line of kisses down my chest. He thrust harder and faster, my back pressed firmly against the wall, my legs wrapped around his hips.   
This is how a miner must feel, I think, my head tilting back in ecstasy. Red drillmen in the bowels of Mars wear thick plastic suits for twelve straight hours while riding drills into the rock. The suits hold in the heat, the drills rattling and pushing men deeper into heated rock. The heat is unbearable, sweat dripping into your eyes and the motion threatening to rip your body apart. This is what it feels like when Cassius groans into my ear, saying my name over and over again as he pushes deeper and deeper. “Virginia,” he moans. “Virginia.”   
When I finally reach my breaking point I grip tight to his shoulders, pulling myself into him. “D-Don’t stop,” I say, my tongue tripping over the words. “Don’t stop, Cassius.” That isn’t what I wanted to say, Cassius’s name not the one that I wanted to say. And as he releases with me, saying his name always does it, I feel the heat in the pit of my stomach being replaced by guilt. Guilt because despite what he has done he doesn’t deserve this. Yes, he has done bad things, but he is not a bad person. He is just a Bellona and I am an Augustus, so I must do what I must do.   
His head drops to my shoulder, lips pressing into my neck. My legs still wrap around his hips and my back is still pressed tight against the wall. “Ah Virginia,” he laughs, tugging a loose curl, “a productive lunch as ever.” I laugh with him, kissing the top of his head. Looking down at his back I see where my nails dug white half moons into his skin. I wonder if they felt like knives.


End file.
